


and as the darkness falls, it fills up both my eyes

by Yevynaea



Category: Captain America (Movies), Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Actually it is but read it anyway, Because Fearlings, Broken Bones, Character Death, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Dark Steve Rogers, F/M, Family, Fearlings, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Ghosts, Magic, Major Character Injury, Nightmares, Non-Graphic Violence, One Shot, Possession, Scars, So that barely counts, Sometimes a family is 2 kids their mom her superhero bf and an alien ghost, The character death is pitch|koz btw, it's not as weird as it sounds, magic jamie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 01:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13330659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yevynaea/pseuds/Yevynaea
Summary: Jamie Bennett has a lot of weird supernatural stuff happening in his life. That's an ongoing thing.He also has some weird non-supernatural stuff happening, like the fact that his mother is dating Captain America.





	and as the darkness falls, it fills up both my eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mynameisyarra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisyarra/gifts).



> this concept came to life in a Discord chat and most of the context is still there, so this fic makes... not a ton of sense, narratively. There are little bits and references that could probably do with more explanation.  
> But it's a fun crossover with some good old fashioned fearling possession, so what's better than that?

Steve Rogers did not expect, when he broke his arm on a mission, to end up dating the nurse who kept an eye on his recovery. He did not expect to start spending nights at her house, and he did not expect to meet her kids, and have them treat him with the grudging friendliness they would any  _ non _ -superhero boyfriend of their mom’s.

He didn't expect to go to Fury with safety concerns, after the first time someone recognized Steve on the street while he and Michelle were on a date, and have Fury direct him to Maria Hill. He  _ really  _ didn't expect Maria to say “we already know about your girlfriend because she’s my sister; we put bodyguards on her and the kids weeks ago”.

 

| | | |

 

One morning, Michelle isn’t in bed when Steve wakes up. He goes downstairs, and finds her at the kitchen table, holding a cup of coffee between both hands.

“Morning,” he says, starting to pull down a mug for himself.

“You know magic is real, right?” she asks seriously. Steve pauses, holding his mug scarce inches above the counter.

“By magic, do you mean--”

“Faeries and spells and monsters,” Michelle’s tone is too solemn for Steve not to take her seriously. She rubs the front of her neck absently, a motion Steve recognizes as something Jamie does often.

“Well,” Steve starts. “I’ve never seen anything that I couldn't explain with science. Or, that someone else couldn't explain the science to me.”

“Jamie and Sophie have talked to spirits for years. Jamie gave me and Sophie charms to keep people from finding us who meant us harm, after you and I started dating. I mean  _ magic,  _ Steve.”

Steve sits down next to her at the table, mug forgotten.

 

| | | |

 

“ _ Status report _ ,” Maria’s voice comes through Agent Mondragon’s earpiece.

“Weirdly quiet, as always. I mean, considering how many people know Steve’s dating, now, I thought I’d get to kick at least a little would-be-kidnapper ass.” Mondragon picks at their week-old nail polish, glancing now and then at the high school’s doors to make sure no one’s leaving yet. “But we’ve only had one attempt, and Agent Polley stopped it because she noticed them circling the block again after  _ failing to find the house. _ Have villains gotten even more pathetic recently, is that an observed phenomenon?”

“Are you complaining that my nephew is safe?” Maria asks in a deadpan.

“...Maybe a tiny bit?” Mondragon replies.

 

| | | |

 

It’s easy to ditch the agent guarding him. A basic perception altering charm, and Jamie is all but invisible as he leaves school and slips into the woods, with the agent still in their car waiting for him to come outside. They'll find him eventually; they know he goes through here, sometimes. But some time to himself is always nice.

Usually, though, he doesn't find  _ bodies  _ in the woods.

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Jamie murmurs to himself, staring down at the empty corpse of the creature he once knew as Pitch Black. He knows the story of Kozmotis Pitchiner, in a vague sense, knows how so many fearlings possessing the man for so long became a new entity in and of itself. More than that, he knows quite personally what it is to be possessed by fearlings. He knows what it is to have the shadows in his head, using his voice, using his memories and everything else in him against his family.

What Jamie doesn't know is why Kozmotis is lying dead under the trees, why the fearlings would all  _ leave _ , why now.

Well. Regardless of what got Kozmotis to this point, Jamie figures he should at least try and give the guy a proper burial. First step is finding a shovel.

 

| | | |

 

Steve sees Jamie through the window, visibly distressed as he comes out of the back shed with a shovel. After watching Jamie retreat into the woods, Steve’s concern gets the better of him. He follows.

 

| | | |

 

Steve finds Jamie in the woods, digging, his jacket abandoned on the ground. The kid’s skirt is dirt-stained, and the body lying next to the grave is, first, clearly not human, and second, very, very dead.

Jamie looks up at Steve's approach. Steve falters, for a moment, at the sight of the kid digging a grave for what looks like an alien, but he continues forward.

“Are you okay?” he asks, when he's within arm's reach.

Jamie breaks.

Steve wraps Jamie in a hug. Silent, moving purely on gut instinct, he takes the shovel from Jamie's hand.

 

| | | |

 

Jamie feels a hand on his head, cold and weightless, and his breath hitches. Steve holds him tighter, no doubt oblivious of the ghost.

“ _ Thank you, Jamie. But don't cry for me _ ,” a voice says, comforting, familiar and unfamiliar. “ _ I’m not done yet _ .”

 

**/ / \ \**

 

_ The world is bright, bright, bright, and loud, loud, ḻ̙̠o̲̭̭̺̩̤̬̻u̻͓̜̟͕d̖͎̤. Not enough shadows to hide in yet, not with the sun so loud in the sky, singing, singing, burning, not enough shadows for so many us. Split, separate, be smaller, fit in the shadows. Find a new body. Find a new host, find, find, hunt, feed, ͍͔̯̼f͖͍͎̬̘̞̜̹i͖͓n̺͕̤̝̤͔ḏ. _

_ Old host, too old. Too old, nothing left. Empty puppet, empty, empty, too many cut strings. Unsustainable. Nothing inside left to feed on, nothing inside left to use. Empty, ḛ̙̰͙͙̳̠ͅm͈͖̙̠̮̺p̭̫t̲͙̟̲̫y̺͇̰͚̱̫̣͓̤. Find a new body, find a new body for us. _

_ Look, look, look. In the sun, here, come back to the old body. Here is a host from before, not empty, not empty. No, no, no, no, this body is safe from us, a scar and a charm. _

_ Look, look, look. Here is someone new. Strong heart, strong body, strong spirit. We can take it, we can have this one. Stay with this one. Whisper, whisper, whisper, from the shadows. Find a way ̠̝̭i̜̳̤̺n̪̞̘̳̩̝ṣ̖͇̗̣̲̗̹i̫͍͉̻̹̠̜d͙̥e̱̰̗. _

 

**/ / \ \**

 

Steve finishes the grave, and they bury the alien. Jamie tells Steve the story of Kozmotis Pitchiner, as he knows it. Steve reluctantly promises not to tell Michelle about this.

They walk back to the Bennett house, where Agent Mondragon is waiting for Jamie in the backyard, annoyed at him for slipping away from them  _ again _ . They start to berate him, but fall quiet at Steve’s warning look.

The ghost of Kozmotis stays with them, aware of shadows in his peripheral vision, even more spectral than himself.

“You leave them alone,” he says, quiet with rage at a life stolen.

“ _ New body,”  _ the gleeful reply comes, from one or from many, Koz can't even tell. “ _ New body, new body, strong, strong, strong _ .”

“Strong and  _ not for you _ .” Kozmotis stands his ground when they move through the air to surround him. He doesn't flinch, even as they swarm him, claws raking across his arms, hissing voices in his ears. It's not as if they can kill him a second time. Third?

The fearlings laugh, a chilling, grating sound.

“ _ Ours, our body. Ours, ours, us. _ ”

 

| | | |

 

Steve bolts awake, the details of his nightmare already fading, heart racing in his chest with fear he doesn't remember the source of. He looks over at Michelle, thankfully still asleep, and then he slides out of bed. The shadows seem to move, in the corners of his vision, and Steve shivers.

Downstairs, in the kitchen, Jamie is awake, sitting on the counter with a bowl of Lucky Charms. He’s wearing a tank top, and nothing over his neck, leaving a scar Steve has never seen before on prominent display under the bright kitchen light. Across Jamie’s neck, a perfect, slender handprint is burnt into his skin.

Jamie catches Steve looking, and tenses, but then clearly forces himself to relax.

“Who did that to you?” Steve asks, quiet, horrified.

“It's complicated.” Jamie takes a bite of his cereal, to avoid having to say more.

“I have time,” Steve says. Jamie is silent. Steve waits.

“I got possessed by a fearling. A few years ago.” Jamie puts his bowl down on the counter beside him.

“The things you said possessed the man in the woods,” Steve remembers. Jamie nods.

“It was just one, for me, but, it was bad; it would’ve taken me over completely if it stayed inside. The Guardians found a way to pull it out, to destroy it, but it-- it struggled.”

Steve curses quietly, a number of different emotions filling his chest. Jamie picks his cereal bowl up again, and takes another bite.

 

| | | |

 

It takes months. Days and nights of whispers and nightmares and Kozmotis watching helplessly as Steve Rogers becomes more and more vulnerable, tiny chinks appearing and then widening in his armor. Sleep deprivation, depression, and anxiety well up in the man, becoming more obvious the longer the fearlings work.

Koz doesn't know how to help. The fearlings will not be reasoned with, do not consider him a threat. The house is warded, so the fearlings can't possess Steve as long as he’s inside, can't torment him as much as they could without any barriers between them. And Kozmotis can guard Steve, a little, take their physical blows so Steve doesn’t take their mental ones. That’s something, at least. But there are so many, so many fearlings, and Koz is alone.

Steve is not, and this is, maybe, why he lasts so long before

( _ finally, finally,  _ the fearlings cackle)

breaking.

 

| | | |

 

The house is quiet, Mom working a rare night shift, Sophie sleeping over at a friend’s house. The SHIELD agents in their car in front of the house seemed to be dozing off last Jamie checked.

He finds Steve in the backyard. They both have trouble sleeping, more often than not, and usually they sit in the kitchen, but tonight, Steve is outside, sitting on Jamie’s old swing. Jamie is mildly surprised it can hold Steve at all.

“You alright?” he asks.

“Just needed some air,” Steve replies. In the dim porch light, he looks… hollow. Exhausted and drained in a way Jamie hadn't fully noticed before now.

“It's dangerous to be out here,” Kozmotis’ voice says in Jamie's ear, and Jamie startles at the ghost’s sudden presence at his side. “Your wards don't extend to the yard.”

Jamie looks at Koz, wide eyed, then at Steve. The shadows behind his almost-step-dad are inky dark and thick, but Jamie can't tell if they're moving.

“We should go inside,” Jamie says.

“Just a second,” Steve replies. The shadows begin to writhe.

“No,  _ now _ ,” Jamie summons daggers of light to his hands. Steve turns to look behind him. Koz flies forward, trying to put himself between Steve and the incoming swarm.

 

They're all too late.

  
  


**/ / \ \**

 

_ Our body, our host, our body, ours, ours, ours, u̵̡͉̟̞̱͎̼̹͖̰s̻̖̳͕̟̠̱. _

 

**/ / \ \**

 

Jamie is frozen, fear chilling every vein and bone to stillness, and how much of it is really from  _ him  _ and how much is from the thing in front of him, he has no idea. Kozmotis seems frozen too, which Jamie has enough presence of mind to think strange, for a ghost.

Steve is not frozen. Steve rolls his shoulders back, a smile curling his lips but not reaching his eyes. His skin takes on a grey tinge, not the silver shine of Pitch Black’s but the sickly pale of someone almost dead. His eyes are gold, bright and hostile in the dark.

The fearlings seem to take a moment to re-acclimate to being inside a body. They move Steve’s fingers, roll his head side to side, bare his teeth in a familiar grin that looks so terribly out of place on Steve's face.

Jamie hopes that they will need time, that they will be uncoordinated, that they will need to get used to Steve’s body. But then Steve stands up from the swing and starts forward in one smooth motion, and Jamie's heart sinks.

 

| | | |

 

“Get out of him,” Kozmotis orders. The fearlings laugh with Steve Rogers’ voice.

“We won't,” they reply. “We-- no, no, hang on, already fell out of habit,  _ I  _ am exactly where I should be. Should I go back to the same name? No, I can't.  _ You  _ were Pitch Black. I’m  _ new _ ! New memories, new emotions, new personality… oh, this is  _ exciting.” _

 

| | | |

 

When Steve walks up to him, Jamie’s magic dims, fear overriding everything else in his head and his chest.  _ Distance _ , he manages to think, stumbling backwards away from the fearlings, but they grab his wrist, twist his arm with Steve’s strength and then some to drag him in close.

_ Snap. _

Jamie cries out in pain. The light in his hands goes completely out, and won't come back. The fearlings laugh, a bit harsher than the real Steve but still so horribly similar, still his laugh, still his voice.

“Well, well, look at that,” Steve grins even wider. “I finally snuffed out that light.”

 

| | | |

 

Kozmotis forces himself to move, wedging himself in between Jamie and Steve, concentrating intently on staying solid enough to shove the fearlings’ new vessel backward. His hands connect, but the blow barely moves Steve back at all.

Jamie’s arm is free, though, with Kozmotis shielding him. That's something. That has to be something.

“I said, get  _ out _ ,” Kozmotis says, low and dangerous. This time, for just the slightest moment, the fearlings hesitate. Koz pushes forward, both figuratively and literally, shoving Steve with all his strength as he continues. “I was your warden once, and again. I am not your puppet anymore.  _ I  _ am in charge now.”

“No,” the fearlings disagree, but their voice wavers.

 

| | | |

 

Jamie doesn't know if his plan will work before he does it. He just knows that spirits feed on what the living give them. He just knows that he and Kozmotis are alone against this threat. He just knows that he wants to save his new  _ dad _ .

So Jamie  _ moves _ , lunging forward to put his uninjured hand in Koz’s, giving his strength, his magic, his light. He gives all his energy to Kozmotis. He doesn't know whether it will even be enough.

 

| | | |

 

As Jamie’s magic and energy flows into him, Kozmotis grows more solid, stronger, brighter.

The fearlings step back, retreating. They don't go far enough. Koz uses only one hand, and the light, pushing Steve back with tremendous force, and, more importantly, forcing the swarm  _ out _ .

The fearlings fly out of Steve's body, trying to escape. Kozmotis doesn't let them get far, using Jamie’s power to draw them back in, to contain them, to--

 

| | | |

 

Jamie watches Kozmotis’ ghost more or less  _ meld  _ with the horde of fearlings, until there are only a few left to escape into the shadows.

 

| | | |

 

Kozmotis lets go of Jamie’s hand when it's over, shuddering violently but soon steadying himself, recentering, keeping the fearlings under control.

“I’m not your puppet anymore,” Kozmotis repeats to the creatures inside him, hearing them hiss and scream in response.

 

| | | |

 

Steve wakes up in the grass, in the dark, Jamie kneeling over him, with tears running down his face and one arm cradled close to his chest. Steve feels his heart fill with pins, his stomach sink, as hazy, muddled memories float to the surface.

“Did I--”

“No.” Jamie is quick to interrupt. “It wasn't you.”

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Steve closes his eyes. “I’m  _ so  _ sorry, Jamie.”

“It wasn't you,” Jamie repeats, quieter.

 

| | | |

 

“What was it?” Jamie asks, a few days later, his arm in a cast courtesy of SHIELD doctors who knew not to assume the worst of the fingerprint bruises, who could accept half-lies so long as they knew Jamie was being truthful when he said Steve didn't-- wouldn't-- hurt him. He’s eating Lucky Charms, sitting at the table for once rather than on top of the counter, because it’s easier this way with only one workable hand.

Steve just looks at him.

“What was what?” he asks.

“What made you go outside?” Jamie asks. “Koz said you’d been fighting their influence for a while. What was it that… let them in?”

Steve sits down, reluctant to answer.

“A nightmare.” he says finally, rubbing tiredly at his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just a stupid nightmare.”

“Well, you lasted longer than I did,” Jamie jokes. Steve laughs, a little bit. “Seriously! I got possessed after like, two minutes.”

“To be fair, you were a kid,” Steve replies, smiling.

“Good point.” Jamie nods. “Now I’d last  _ ten _ minutes.”

It’s a grim joke, not even funny, really, but the two of them laugh anyway.

“What's this about possession?” Michelle asks from the doorway, and Steve and Jamie freeze like deer in headlights, looking at each other.

“Not it!” Jamie announces, hurriedly stuffing a large bite of cereal into his mouth.

“Jamie, if you  _ lied _ to me about breaking your wrist on the stairs--”

“He did,” Steve says. Jamie makes an offronted noise, and Steve gives him a look. “I can't lie to her, kid.”

Jamie, still chewing, picks up his cereal bowl, salutes Steve with his spoon, and leaves the room in a hurry. Michelle slowly sits down across from Steve.

“Was it fearlings, again?” she asks, rubbing at her neck, almost absently, the way Jamie rubs at his scar. Steve sighs.

“Yeah.”

“Him, or you?”

“...Me,” Steve swallows the guilt rising in his throat. Michelle curses softly, putting her head in her hands.

“I don't know why he still tries to  _ hide _ these things,” she says.

“He wants to protect you,” Steve answers.

“I'm the mom, it’s  _ my _ job to protect  _ him _ .” Michelle sighs.

“Yeah, well,” Steve manages a laugh. “He did a pretty great job protecting  _ me. _ ”

From the next room over, Jamie calls,

“Koz says you forgot to mention he helped!”

“We have  _ talked _ about eavesdropping!” Michelle calls back automatically. Then, “And who the hell is Koz?”

They hear a muttered curse and Jamie's hurried footsteps, retreating, and Steve laughs.

“I love this family,” he says sincerely. Michelle smiles.

“Good,” she says, taking his hand across the table. “We love you too.”


End file.
